


A Peculiar Beginning

by detectivecaz



Series: Snippets [2]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children (2016), Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - Ransom Riggs
Genre: Angst, Crossover, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-02 22:54:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11519202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/detectivecaz/pseuds/detectivecaz
Summary: When a young James Bond hears his parent's arguing, he tries to intervene, only for him to discover that he may not be as normal as he originally thought.





	A Peculiar Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> A little idea that was originally going to be a prequel to the main story that I have been working on since last year. However, I have managed to condense the important elements from this part into the main story, so I have just decided to post this part as a standalone as I really like how it started and turned out. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!

* * *

Throughout the eleven years of his life, James Bond never considered himself to be special. His life was about as ordinary as they could come. He had a mother and father; the latter earning a wealthy living as a Senior Accounts Manager for Vickers Defence System. While he admired and looked up to his father, a part of him couldn’t help but resent him. Andrew Bond was so focused on his work, that James felt like sometimes he forgot that he even had a son. It often made him feel isolated and alone, while he would watch other children’s father’s play with them in the park and show their children their undivided attention. The only time he seemed to see his father was a small glimpse in the morning before he left for work or at night before he was sent to bed.  
  
Although his mother, Monique showed him attention and love, she still treated him as if he were a small child. He was more observant than his mother gave him credit for. He would lay awake some nights, listening to his mother and father’s raised voices while they argued back and forth. Most of the arguments came back to the same topic, with his mother accusing his father of putting his work over his family. He tried to drown out their voices, but his mother’s raised voice was too hard to ignore.  Their arguments would go on for days, maybe weeks, until one night he heard a loud crash from downstairs.  
  
Feeling the adrenaline pumping through his veins, James tried to keep quiet as possible, as he left his room and walked down the stairs to investigate. Hearing the last stair creek, he held his breath, wondering if they had heard him. When there was no sound of hurried footsteps approaching, he stepped onto the cold, tiled floor, and looked down the hallway, to see the light coming from the kitchen door, which was slightly ajar. James felt his heart beating frantically in his chest, as he cautiously approached the kitchen. Reaching out his hand, he slowly pushed opened the door slightly and peeked inside the room.  
  
The floor was covered in crockery that looked to have been thrown, by someone. Looking around for any sign of his mother and father, his eyes narrowed when he saw his mother lying on the ground with his father towering over her. James felt rage flow through him.  
  
Bursting into the kitchen, he ran over to his mother and stepped in front of her, while trying to push his father away.  
  
“Keep away from her!”  
  
“James… go back to bed sweetheart.” Monique said trying to keep her voice from quavering.    
  
“No, I’m not leaving you.”  
  
“Listen to your mother, James. This doesn’t concern you.”  
  
“When you hit my mother, it does!”  
  
“I gave you an order, James! Now go back to bed!” Andrew said advancing towards his son.    
  
James kept his ground refusing to move. He could smell the alcohol on his father’s breath. He had been drinking and took his frustrations out on his mother.  
  
“Andrew, leave him alone!”  
  
The desperation tinged with fear in his mother’s voice made him that more determined to stand up to him. He had faced bullies at school on a daily basis, but this was his father, someone he held the utmost respect for, but that respect was slowly waning with what he witnessed tonight.  
  
As he watched his father grab his arm in a tight grip, he tried to break free from his hold as he dragged James from the room.  
  
“Let go of me!”  
  
Andrew ignored his son’s pleas as he continued to drag him down the hallway.  
  
James continued to struggle to break free from his father’s hold. Placing his own hand on top of his father’s he tried to loosen the grip on his arm.  
  
“Let me go!”  
  
As soon as the words left his mouth, James watched as his father stopped in his tracks, and his hand left James’ arm.  
  
Taking a few steps back, James rubbed his sore arm, while walking around to look at his father, who looked to be in some sort of trance like state.  
  
“James,” Monique called out as her footsteps hurried down the hallway. “Are you all right?” She reached out to touch him, only to see James take a step back from her.  
  
“Don’t touch me!”  
  
Monique turned to look at Andrew, who had yet to show any sign of movement. Shakily reaching out her hand towards his face, she saw no acknowledgment in his blue eyes, which had a glazed look over them.  
  
“What’s wrong with him?”  
  
Monique took a step back and looked over at her son, “James, I need you to go to your room.”  
  
“Why? What’s happened to him?”  
  
“Not now, James. Please, just go to your room and stay there until I come for you.”  
  
Monique saw the fear in her son’s eyes and kneeled in front of him. “It will be all right, James. Trust me.” She gave him an encouraging smile. “Now, please do as I say.”  
  
James merely nodded and ran up the stairs. Monique watched him go in sadness. Once she heard his room door close, she hurried into the living room. Walking quickly over to the bookcase, she pulled out, an old worn brown hard cover book that was thick with dust, and quickly opened it, finding the page that she would need. Monique always had an inkling that her son was somewhat special when he had been born, but she had hoped that her family’s special abilities would have skipped another generation. Now, it seemed that it wasn’t the case. Seeing no alternative on how to deal with this, she decided to make the call she thought she would never have to make.  
  
Monique had no idea if Miss Avocet was even still alive. Her father had told her stories of a woman who could change into a bird and create time loops to preserve the last twenty-four hours. As she was growing up she became enthralled in his stories, as he told her how the woman taught and looked after children with special abilities giving them a safe haven where they could live normal lives with their peculiarities as he liked to call them.  
  
It was then that she could see the wistful look on his face, as he thought of her mother. The two of them had met under Miss Avocet and Miss Bunting’s care and became close over the years. Her father, Joseph could control the weather based on his emotions, while her mother, Pearl had the peculiarity of a siren’s song.  Her father had often joked her peculiarity was what had caused him to fall in love with her mother all those years ago.  It was only when they decided to leave and live a normal life that their lives took an unexpected turn.  
  
As Monique was growing up, her mother Pearl would disappear from time to time, never disclosing where it was she was going, until one day, she never came home. Her father looked into her mother’s disappearance, even calling Miss Avocet for answers wondering if the older woman knew what it was her mother had been investigating, but she knew nothing that could help them. They heard no word from her for months, until her father got the phone call that they had discovered a woman’s body in her late thirties matching Pearl’s description.  
  
She was only nine at the time, but she could see the devastation on her father’s face when he had received the news. A once hot summer afternoon was suddenly replaced with a heavy downpour of rain, as the heavens and her father cried over the loss of the woman he loved. It still haunted her to this day. Her father had left her with their neighbour, while he was asked to go to the morgue to identify her mother’s body. A part of her hoped that there had been some mistake, and her mother would walk through the door, with her bright smile, and her hazel eyes filled with happiness and love. But as the minutes went past, she realised her mother wouldn’t be coming back. The rain had gotten heavier, followed by a bang of thunder. It was then she knew for definite that her mother was gone.  
  
Later that night when her father returned, she saw the haunted look on his face along with fear and anger. When she had asked him questions about how her mother had died, he avoided the subject, telling her to remember her mother as she had been when she was alive. It proved harder than what she thought and she hadn’t asked him any more questions about the subject. After the funeral, her father had never been the same. He became distant, and always on edge, especially at night as if he was afraid that something would grab him from the darkness. He had become overprotective, telling her to be home before sunset.  
  
His overprotective behaviour continued for years. Even when she had become an adult and started her relationship with Andrew, he would still order her to adhere to the rules that he made her swear to as a child. Until one day, on a spring afternoon, she finally had enough and sought the answers she desperately needed.

 


End file.
